


Kissed by Snow

by JustAGoodfella



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bran is Night King, Dark Daenerys Targaryen, Don't Like Just Don't Read, Don't complain about tags, F/F, F/M, God of Thunder - Freeform, Goddess of Fertility, Mother-Son Relationship, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, hathor gods of egypt, jon and dany will fondle each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24678694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAGoodfella/pseuds/JustAGoodfella
Summary: DON'T LIKE JUST DON'T READ XDKinvara took Dany and her baby boy to the smoking ruins, and a curse possessed each of them.The Targaryens are back for revenge.
Relationships: Daemon Targaryen/Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow /Daenerys Targaryen (past), Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 36
Kudos: 43





	Kissed by Snow

The smell of salt and smoke licked the shores of the colossal blackwater island, fog and a festering taste to the tongue lingered over the fells and heaths. It had been over seventeen years since a talon of a fire-breathing beast had pierced the misty moors of the lost stronghold and even longer since leather wings had screamed scarlet screeches along the cliffs of the obsidian fortress. The night was all consuming and even the moon’s glower barely crept over the abandoned grass planes, the pale orb was a dying halo over this island, tearing its teeth into the ground and clawing desperately from leaving this forgotten place into the shadows forever.

Daemon stepped off the warm scales of his dragon, the heavy cloak clasped down his back fell in elegance with the wind. Draped like a veil of death and trailing his boots with a slight slither that drowned the crunch of grass under his feet. The moons simmer made his blood-red garb look almost pitch and in stark contrast to the silver curls threaded behind his sharp ears reaching far past his broad shoulder blades. The plates of his molded armor shifted without a sound when his feet touched the ground, glimmering like sparkling water and the black gorge metal lining his chest were not as darkening as the steel glint of his pupils. But, the Valyrian steel armor he had salvaged from the smoking ruins with his mother and the encrusted hilt of the longsword slung over his back were not as mysterious as the grey short-handled hammer he carried in his hand. His pale fingers stricken along the hilt.

‘Orego aoha engos, Andrus.’ Daemon murmured, running his hand along with the horns of the beast and quelling her screeches into softer clicks and drills under his touch.

He raised his jaw to feel the wind seethe as he took in the stronghold in the distance. Andrus felt his curiosity and spite and he smoothed her internal snarls, ‘easy girl.’

The dragon was no bigger than a large carriage and no more than a year old, born on the driest night in the middle of the scorching ruins of Valyria from warmblood and forbidden words. She was a beautiful creature. Her scales were wrung with pale azure and silver-stained crusts, her wings were folded by its sides, heavy and thick as they trailed the ground. Once stretched they were cerulean-blue, the darker veins and spines within the leathery membranes could be seen riddled in pale light, bathing like sparking oil. Her snout was long and her talon-like horns that snarled out her head were wide, black as her soul like a rightful crown of malignant hunger which then drew attention to the long clicking tail which slithered behind the beast, an obsidian scorpion bolt encrusted at the end one may argue, daring a soul to challenge her.

Daemon turned from the unflinching blood-stained pupils of his beast, looking up and along the moors and grassland, searching for life within the Dragonstone fortress which mounted half a league from where they had landed. They were covered by the blanket of darkness, but he could see little-to-no guards littered around the battlements through Andrus’s mind despite her wearisomeness. His dragon already started blowing gusts of fire at the soil, dark orange flame, fierce but not yet her true blue coloring his mother promised him. The fire serpent quickly burnt a wide circle around them to proclaim her territory before she nestled down in a coil with drills of tiredness, it had been a long journey for both of them, they didn’t understand why they called it the narrow sea.

He spotted a few lanterns in the distance, mostly near the main gate between huge bastion ramparts but nothing more. No more than four helms and their spears were virgins to blood. The Raven must think Dragonstone had no importance anymore. The fool’s legs are not the only thing that are careless.

Daemon shook his head and let out a deep breath as he stared at the formidable fortress, truly seeing it for the first time in his life, ‘my birthright.’ He spat in disgust, angry that common blood dared to walk his corridors and reside on his throne.

Andrus screeched at him as she shifted, impatient, telling him to get on with it and give her an order to burn them to the ground so she could just go and feast on warm flesh.

He raised his hand with the hammer in toe to quieten the beast, ‘I know. But supper can wait, remember why we are here. Remember why we crossed the poisoned sea to this foul place. Kinvara told us to be here at this exact spot, at this exact time, and something or someone will come whom we have to meet.’

Daemon trailed off impatiently as well, he stepped forth and raised Mjolnir above his head to give the signal. He channeled the power in his veins and his grey eyes turned cerulean-blue and before his dragon could scamper back in fear, shards of lightning blitz through the air and thundered above the great island, flocks of birds in the night screeched away and the seas roared in pain from the intrusion of the bolts of cold-blooded fire. The island was quickly filled with cracks of thunder like oaken branches breaking and encircled by strings of lightening, spitting down with a blinding flash and ear-splitting roar. Thunder quaking the waters and the knees of the sentries on the vanguard walls buckled, confusion, and fear as they looked for an answer to the sudden weather change but was unfortunate. The night cover was faithful to the threat waiting somewhere in the pitch moors.

He lowered the hammer and smirked, the distance and darkness from the castle gave them complete cover. He only had to wait a minute before a great winged shadow suddenly appeared from above the clouds and darkened the night even further, he had given his mother the signal it was safe to land on this cursed island.

The gusts of air from Drogon’s wings were formidable from a long distance, at short, the force could and would throw a horse off its tracks.

Daemon ignored the black dragon’s firm glare once he landed; its scales were threaded with scarlet veins and his long gargantuan neck was wrung with shards of hide as strong as bronze and iron. Drogon opened his jaws at him as he passed, growling, and his throat clicking, the sight of the giant molten core within didn’t faze him but the stench of the blackened bones between the long-yellowed razor teeth did make him grimace. He glanced back at Andrus trying to defend him by nipping at the Drogon’s wing and smirked when his own dragon immediately scraped off when the colossal beast then lounged his teeth at him as well in a warning.

‘I think one day, Drogon will tear her apart if she doesn’t stop jesting with him,’ Daemon smirked quietly, reaching out his hand to his mother as she stepped off her dragon’s wing. The only light was the moons stare, but Daemon still saw the beauty of his mother in the dark grassland.

‘I think I should tear you apart for the storm you drew,’ Daenerys started acidly, glancing at the hammer at his side as the spines of her dark leather gown slithered the grass floor as she disembarked. ‘…there was no need for it, Daemon, we are here to fulfill a prophecy, nothing more,’ we are not here to conqueror, not again, never again.

Daemon opened his mouth to retort but was silenced when his mother spoke to the dragons in old Valyrian, they snarled in response and then flummoxed into the air, Drogon gracefully sweeping off the cliff edge and gliding away into a mere shadow along with Andrus flapping wildly behind.

‘…Why did you send them away?’ Daemon wanted to shout, looking in disbelief at the desolating beasts disappear into the night air. He didn’t receive an answer, ‘mother?’

Daenerys stood facing the old fortress in the distance, wringing her wrists under the scaled leather gown she wore, and her alluring purple eyes lost in thought. The last time she came here, the last time she came home, she lost everything… If I look back, I’m lost. That meant nothing to here anymore, that’s what she told herself. She tensed when her son came behind her, a smile teased the corners of her lips as his strong arms weaved underneath hers, holding her snugly against his hard chest, his chin finding the warmth of her neck. ‘Tell me what bothers you?’

‘…the past.’ Dany murmured, looking at Dragonstone under the night skies, the stone fortress looked withered and black, even more, neglected the last time she was here. Its caverns underneath naked and gutted of its black glass and most of the many battlement walls, eroded, guarded by only the shadows of the fallen and cobwebs of spiders.

Daemon hummed in response and threaded her silken hair behind one ear, he closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. He drew her tighter and his groin centered between the crease of her gown that encased her plump globes, he felt her settle against him contently.

‘You came here alone last time, mama. Not now, I am by your side. Anyone that dares to harm you, will feel my wrath. They will wander the seven hells with no eyes or tongue, a fool thinking they could challenge a dragon lord and his Queen.’ Daemon growled, his hands sliding along the sides of her thin waist, viscously alluring as he kissed the nape of her neck, again and again, inhaling the lavender warmth of her hair and scalp, he placed another kiss on her cheek. ‘I love you, mama, no one will lay a finger on you, I promise.’

Dany smiled softly and her small deftly fingers tilted his jaw back to her as she turned to him, ‘I’m you wife, Daemon, kiss my lips…’

Her tongue softened when he possessively captured her lips and she moaned when he laced his sharp fingers around her neck, his nails grazing the smooth curve and holding her in place as she met his hunger over her shoulder.

His mother was the mistress of time itself it seemed. After they returned from the smoking ruins of Valyria and unveiled the power within the chamber of fourteen flames, they left with dragon eggs, wealth, knowledge, and a curse flowing through each of their veins. He bathed in the pools of the last Emperor of the peninsula and was granted worthy of its power. A God King. She drank from the black vials of the fertility goddess. She remembered how it felt to have the blood venom poured down her throat, the sound of her own screams and the labyrinth of golden veins creeping over her skin, the golden drops left on her lips and how her body changed to viscously alluring before her own eyes, a temptress, suddenly craving for own son’s cum.

Now, Daenerys was nearing her forties, but she was beheld younger than her own son, a petite nymph. Her porcelain face was fair skinned with nary a blemish, soft and angelic as ever. Her eyes were now a deeper shade of lilac, bewitching with a golden glimmer under her thick dark lashes. She wore a flowing leather gown, black and red, that clung to her body and stretched tight over her full plump bosom, falling down to her ankles and covering the moleskin sandals adorned under her soft feet. Her silver hair was no longer ice gold but pure silver, not braided anymore for she was no Khaleesi, but it still fell way past the curve of her bottom in thick ice ringlets, straight and pure, like a Targaryen queen of old.

When Daemon leaned down further, nipping at her lips before he grazed the underside of her breasts through her gown with his large hands, she quickly leaned back, turning and holding a palm on his chest, ‘control yourself, Daemon. We don’t know who is coming…’ she smiled at the pout of his pink lips, his eyes still closed in her scent and her eyes softened when he looked away, brooding. The very same look of a certain north man. The man who betrayed her.

‘…What?’ he grunted, noticing her staring at him.

She was just about to answer but then they heard a low growl and a yearning howl, somewhere deep in the grass and hidden amongst the dark dew. Daemon slowly placed his palm on her navel and thrust her behind him as he faced the sound of the beast. Only darkness and silent raindrops could be seen around them at first, but moonlit shadows of a creature appeared before them, a large head and yellow eyes stepped out the grass. The moonlit outline of its furs and its malignant stare was all they could see.

‘Stay behind me,’ Daemon ordered, his nose twitching with acidity as he tightened his grip on the hammer, ‘I will slay the beast and wear...’

‘DAEMON!’ Dany half-screamed suddenly.

Out of nowhere, a small figure leaped into the air behind them brandishing a dagger raised to sink into her son’s back. But Targaryen King’s eyes turned a cerulean-blue and a menacing flash levitated the earth, the staggering bolt of light charged into Mjolnir and the mere impact was catastrophically powerful. The intruder was blinded and was instantly thrown back ten feet, sprawled in the dirt. The figure was half-blinded on the floor and clutched her broken leg from the impact, she barely looked up at them to scream, ‘Nymeria, kill!’

The direwolf snapped its jaws and tried to come to the rescue but it was Daenerys that pushed Daemon behind her this time, kneeling down and stopping the wolf dead in its tracks with her spell-binding eyes, ‘What a pretty wolf you are.’ Dany purred sweetly.

Arya clutched her leg in pain, trying to ignore the god of thunder walking towards her as she simply looked at her wolf in confusion. ‘…Nymeria, kill her! Finish it girl!’

Dany kept her eyes focused on the lured wolf, pursing her lips sweetly as the wolf tilted it’s head in fascination and ignored her mistress who started thrashing when Daemon yanked her up by the hair.

‘You look awfully warm with those furs, you should cool down in the seas. I command you.’ Dany’s eyes glowed a brief gold. And the beast was lured.

Arya stark’s scream was silent when she was forced to watch as her faithful wolf suddenly bolted off the edge of the cliff, the grave of a distant splash eventually rang their ears as the icy waters consumed the wolf into its cold stomach of death.

‘We should throw her off as well, let her dine in hell with her mongrel.’ Daemon murmured, looking down at the mature face of the killer. Her small round face and dark eyes now tightened with anger, she thrashed and lunged under his grip on her hair. She even found her dagger amongst the dewy grass and her nails clawed the earth towards it, craving for the chance until she was flung, landing at feet that she thought dead.

‘Now now, Daemon. That is no way to meet your Aunt.’

Dany watched her son digest the information, crossing his dense forearms and studying the small woman.

Arya’s face paled and her steel grey eyes dilated at Daenerys, ‘how? You’re supposed to be rotting in the ground?’

Daenerys’ face softened, her arms crossing and she fluttered her eyes back to look at the foreboding silhouette of the castle. She answered after a long moment, ‘apologies, I didn’t intend to disappoint, Lady Stark’.

‘Jon swore he wrought a dagger inside your mad heart! He said your Dragon carried away your body...? I must have joined you in hell, or is this some trick, you’ve become a witch. Let alone a mad whore!’ Arya spat, clutching her leg in agony, she struggled and tried to fight back as Daemon’s fingers threaded her hair, almost lifting her off the ground. The chiseled face tilted as his cat’s eyes, black as pitch, examined her featured, intrigued. 

‘Take care how you speak, you may share my blood, but I have no quarrel tearing you, limb from limb, you little thing. Now speak what brings you to us, or I will break your bones to the very marrow and let the sea consume you?’

Arya tried to control her breathing, watching the man’s face, his mannerisms. He looked like a Targaryen, he carried himself like a dragon-lord but the same reflecting steel glint in his cat-like eyes told her the truth, he was Jon Snow’s seed. ‘I was told to come to Dragonstone, on this night, on the hour of this moon. That I would find one called light-bringer, one who could summon fire and level mountains. To tell them, the Longest night never left us. That a dark power has risen in the north…’

Daenerys stepped towards her, ‘who told you this?’

Arya struggled against Daemon’s hold before answering, ‘A warlock. He said this, light-bringer, would rid the long night for good!’

‘I thought Lady Stark, you killed the Night King..? I thought you pieced a Valyrian steel blade into that monster’s heart?’ Daenerys almost growled, watching Arya closely.

‘…I don’t know. Winter still lingers over Westeros. The longest winter Westeros has ever seen. And… when I returned from… The warlock told me, there can only be a balance. Not just the light. Not just the dark. Only balance. Apparently, when I killed the Night King, the dark spirit, the curse inside his veins, moved to another. Latched itself on the closest living thing.’

‘Brandon Stark,’ Daenerys murmured.

Daemon knitted his brow in confusion, ‘The Raven?’

Arya opened her mouth to refute this but no words came out. She looked away, clutching her dismembered leg and struggled the get her next words out, ‘since I’ve come back, I made myself scarce. No one knows I’ve come back. I’ve seen what Westeros has come to. Everything past the Riverlands is desolate of life, frozen. The North is undergoing a civil war. The Karstarks and the Glovers have joined forces, they think Sansa’s rule is weak. Your Dothraki never left, a new Khal has risen. They have gutted the Reach and the Stormlands. And my brother… King Bran, they say he just sits in the Red-Keep and doesn’t answer to anybody. He is letting Winter consume everything. The Warlock speaks true, the Night King lives in Bran.’

Daenerys glanced at her son when he asked the question she was also pondering, his words like cold water running down her spine.

‘What of Jon Snow?’

Arya snarled her face at him, ‘you mean your father?’

‘I mean the man who betrayed my mother, the man who pierced his own blade 3 inches from her womb?’ Daemon said quietly, but his anger and ire stung every word. She didn’t answer, Arya simply looked at Daenerys without expression making even the Dragon-Queen shift on her feet. ‘Jon Snow lives. My brother stands as a shield that guards the realms of men, on the edge of the World.’

Daenerys swallowed her shock, she clearly thought Jon was dead.

‘When Jon hears your alive… when he hears he has a son. A Targaryen bred boy, that is fucking his own mother…’

Daemon moved quickly and slapped the northern woman across the face, the dewy grass soiling one side of her face as she sprawls onto the ground, cold and benumbed.

‘Are you alright?’ Daemon asked after a second. He watches his mother looking at the dark fortress in the distance. Dragonstone. He makes his way by her side, reaching for her small soft hand. The wind is cold and bitter across the fells and heaths as he lifts her hand and places a kiss along her fingers, glancing over the warmth of her skin. ‘We can leave now, can’t we? All we had to do is listen to her. We don’t owe this land anything’

Daenerys tears her eyes from the broken stronghold and looks up at her son, the blood-red cloak billowing behind him like a pitch vale, his cat-like-eyes watching her closely. She places her palms on his upper chest, smoothing them down over his herculean armor, her touch light as a feather. ‘Your name is Targaryen, as is mine. And with that name, we’ll never be safe. They will want to kill us. People wage war on those they can’t control. And they will never control a Dragon, we are but stomachs and they but food. So, to live in this world, to stay safe. We have to do so, on top of the mountain... Daemon, if we don’t stop the Raven, he will haunt us until he has our power, our dragons, our bodies in the ground. Kinvara told us, the Raven could be watching us right now. We have to fight, it’s our only choice.’

Daemon tilts his jaw upward, eyeing the dark lands around them, and after a moment, he steps closer to her. 

‘You came here last time to be a conqueror and savior, relying on trust and love. Not this time. I will kill them all. I will not risk your life with these people. I will slaughter them, I will take their King's head, take their gold, burn their castles, rape their women, and kill them all. I will reign lightening over these Kingdoms for a thousand years if you choose to do this. We will kill them all. Understand?’

Daenerys’ shocked eyes hooded slightly as her son laced his fingers around her neck and brought her lips even closer to his, his warm breath making her almost limp under his gaze. But, Dany propped herself on her toes to reach his lips, biting his lower lip enticingly and giving him a sultry smile.

‘We will kill them all.’ She breathes.

The glint in Daemon’s eyes darkens, ‘even Jon Snow?’

‘Even Jon Snow.’

**Author's Note:**

> Had this in my files for ages.


End file.
